When the Butterflies Began
by mrandmrsbass
Summary: There's a new student at Constance for the start of 9th grade, Chuck Bass. Will Blair and Chuck be enemies, friends, or more than friends? AU. Chair.
1. Chapter 1

**Manhattan Island: Upper East Side**

**Constance Billard K-12 Prep School**

**September 4****th****, 2005 8:05 AM**

"Class, we have a new student," Headmistress Kwellar boomed, standing in full command at the front of the classroom. "He moved here from-where was it, Charles?"

The boy smirked, showing off an identical set of cute dimples. "Philadelphia," he said in a deep, sexy voice that would have made my knees buckle, if I had been standing at the time.

Instead, I was sitting in the exact middle of the classroom (the best spot to catch every going-on), in a pristine new desk-new ones were bought every year (for the lofty tuition, New York royalty's children deserved to sit in only the best)-surrounded by the girls in my class, most who had totally copied my back-to-school outfit and signature headband.

The teacher continued, "His name is Charles Bass. Please welcome him with the good Constance spirit!"

Charles smirked again. "Call me Chuck. Chuck Bass." And then he sauntered off confidently to a desk catty-cornered from me.

My best friend Serena and I exchanged a look. _Hottie_, she mouthed at me, raising her delicately plucked eyebrows. Serena scribbled on a notecard and handed it to me.

"_Too bad you're taken_," her loopy cursive spelled.

As if on cue, my boyfriend for 4 years, Nate, turned toward me and ran his hand through his sandy blonde locks, involuntarily flexing his biceps. He had gotten his braces off this summer and looked hot.

Although not as hot as this new Chuck Bass, I mentally added. _Not at all._

"_We'll see. I love Nate, but maybe the start of 9__th__ grade calls for a break?_" I wrote back in my own bubbly handwriting.

I gave Nate a smile, then turned back to Chuck, who was getting acquainted with a few of the boys. He wore the required boys' uniform: navy blue blazer, khaki pants, pale yellow button down, and red-and-yellow striped tie. He also wore a scarf. Perfect, I knew my first ice-breaker.

"Nice scarf," I said, half-teasingly, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. It _was _pretty cool. "Vintage Hermes?"

Chuck raised his eyebrows, looking surprised. He looked me up and down, and I knew he liked what he saw.

This summer, I had done some modeling for Dior. People told me I had the perfect face, and I wouldn't correct them. My long chestnut hair cascaded down my back, done in loose curls and held off my forehead by a silk headband. My heart shaped face accentuated my high cheekbones and delicate jawline, and my nose was a cute button. My porcelain skin had a natural flush, and my chocolate eyes were accentuated by light gold eyeshadow (_very _light, Constance didn't allow makeup at all, so you had to be careful.)

He smiled, and then answered. "Yes, actually. _Someone_ knows her brands." He said it in a bit of a mocking tone, but I knew it was flirty. A few guys behind him chuckled with him.

Nate looked at Chuck. "You better watch what you're getting into, brother. She can insult you to tears," she said. I looked back and forth at them, amused. Was Nate jealous?

Chuck didn't care (if he did, he never let on). "Well, she hasn't been through me yet. People will say the same about me."

Nate narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Chuck threw back his head and laughed. "Because I'm _Chuck Bass_, that's why!" He fist-bumped a couple of his seatmates. "Now, where were we?" He asked me, turning his smoldering gaze on me.

"Your scarf," I said.

He took off his scarf, and then handed it to me. "Wanna feel it?" He asked.

I tried to ignore how suggestive that question was, and instead looped it around my neck. It clashed with my plaid skirt, but so what? I had _Chuck Bass's _signature Hermes scarf around my neck, and I was at the center of attention.

Somebody cleared their throat from the front of the room. "Now, class, my name is Mrs. Holt, your geometry teacher. I'm sure you're all well acquainted with our new student, Mr. Bass, by now." Chuck raised his hand to a smattering of applause and high-fives.

I took out my math notebook. Geometry was one of my favorite subjects (well, all subjects were my favorite, because I did well in them), and I resolved not to let Chuck distract me from the review of the different shapes and angles.

Except Chuck wouldn't let me concentrate. He had looped part of his scarf around his hand and was now sliding it back and forth across my neck skin. I giggled.

Nate stared at him, his eyes like daggers. Chuck saw his stare and laughed. "Dude, I'm not hitting on your girlfriend. I do this to _everybody_..." He trailed off suggestively.

Nate did a double take. "Wait, how did you know that I'm her boyfriend?" I was wondering that too.

Chuck shrugged. "Isn't it sort of obvious, the vibes between the two of you?" He gestured at the air like there were signals in it. "I read people well."

That was an understatement. I felt like in the 15 minutes he had been part of this class, he already knew everybody's personal info and was ready to take over as the one to watch.

My thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Holt clearing her throat. "Since you all seem to be very talkative-" she stared around the room, her eyes finally landing on Chuck, Nate, and me-"here's a seating chart. The person across from you is your partner for the next term. "Okay, when I put it up, quietly move to your seat..."

The chart went up on the overhead, and I was expecting to be seated with Nelly and Ling, the smart girls, or Wendy, the weird and untalkative one. Instead, I was surprised to see that I was in the back, next to Chuck (of all people), in front of Nate, and diagonal from Serena.

Once we had moved to our new desks, exchanging suspicious looks (this seating assignment was _way_ too good to be true), I checked out the rest of the classroom.

Huh. They all seemed to be organized into groups of four. Everyone in these groups hung out with each other outside of school and were, for the most part, friends. Who had made this seating chart?

As the giggles grew as the new groups chatted, Mrs. Holt silenced the crowd. "I know you're all wondering why the seating chart is so in your favor. You're sitting next to all your friends. It's something that all of your teachers have worked together on, called Family Groups. We wanted to group you with people you would be inclined to talk to, so it is a practice of self-control. We put Chuck where we thought he might fit."

Chuck leaned over in his desk to whisper to me. "In the group of the most beautiful girls and most popular guy," he explained to me with a wink. "They must really want to succeed socially here." Either he just really wanted to flatter me, or he was reading the situation (because he _was _at the 'popular table,' whether he knew it or not).

"In your family groups, you will be doing everything. You will sit together in every class, do projects together, and coordinate study groups outside Constance. The person sitting across from you is your partner. In my class, especially, and in almost every other class, like science, you will be working with specifically this person. So I hope you like each other."

Chuck and I grinned at each other sarcastically. Serena and Nate laughed about something, perhaps a new inside joke. I sighed a little. Serena was known for inadvertently stealing boyfriends with her charm and good attitude. Usually, boys went for me first, but then they drifted toward Serena, once they saw how demanding I was.

It seemed like they could sense my jealousy, so they stopped laughing, the look on their face saying, "Hey, we're not going to cheat." Serena smiled at me. Nate played with the ends of my hair. They both wanted to make it up to me, because I knew nobody wanted to make me sad because I looked so beautiful when I was happy.

And Chuck did something that made my stomach do a loop: without Nate seeing, he placed his soft warm hand on my thigh, just below the end of my skirt. And kept it there for a beat.

I _did _like my partner. Maybe a little _too _much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Manhattan Island: Upper East Side**

**Constance Billard K-12 Prep School**

**September 4****th****, 2005 12:10 PM**

I traipsed into the lunchroom, exhausted from the witty banter and making up comebacks with Chuck, who did indeed sit next to me _in every single class. _

I spotted my table, the best one in the middle (far from the lunch monitors), near the windows that looked out over Central Park. It was a table that fit nine, the biggest one they had, because my posse was extensive.

I elbowed Serena when I saw who was sitting at the table already. There was Ben, one of Nate's friends, Kati, and Isabel...and Chuck, who was sitting in the middle of the two girls and had his arms around the back of both of their chairs.

So I wouldn't get a chance to regroup during lunch. God, flirting was hard.

Nate grinned. "Well, look who's here! Chuck, my man!" They had become fast friends during US History when they had made up some kind of inside joke about the girl who sat in the back corner. They did one of those jump-up-chest-bump things that you usually see when a quarterback runs up to his wide receiver after they just scored a touchdown. "I see you've met the gang."

Chuck smirked. "Yes, may I say that they are all very...attractive." He winked at Kati and Isabel.

I blew air of my nose loudly, as if to say, _"Are you kidding me?"_

"What, jealous much, _Waldorf_?" He looked at me, and his deep brown eyes said, _let the games begin. _

"Why would I, _Bass_? I've got Nate here." I looped my arm around his and sat down next to him. Serena sat next to me and Isabel.

Chuck gave a look that said, "_Fine," _and went back to chatting-make that flirting-with Kati and Isabel.

I cleared my throat. I was the leader of this table-make that the leader of the cafeteria. I was not about to be set back by a newbie. Who did Chuck Bass think he was? Even if he was hot, even if his voice made me go weak at the knees, I would not show any outward weaknesses. I was Blair Waldorf, after all. Queen B.

"Chuck, if you are so enamored with Kati and Isabel, why don't you go sit at your own table with them?" I gestured to the last empty table, which was over by the trash cans. "Because me, Nate, Serena, and Ben are trying to have an _interesting _conversation here, and we're being interrupted by your flirting-which, I might add, isn't that spectacular."

He narrowed his eyes. Damn him for looking so sexy when he did it. "What, are you going to ask me to leave?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

I stamped my foot, accidentally stepping on Nate's loafer. "Yes, I will. And you'll do it."

Half of Chuck's mouth pulled up in a smile. "No, not if everyone at the table wants me to stay." He eyeballed everyone at the table, like a politician lobbying for votes. All he needed was a baby to kiss.

Or maybe..._me_ to kiss.

_God, Blair, get it together!_ I scolded myself.

Of course, Kati and Isabel wanted Chuck to stay. Ben wanted him to stay, and Serena, ever-loyal to me, wanted him to leave. I looked at Nate.

He shrugged, still hurting from my foot-stamp. "I think he's cool. Why kick him out for getting to know people? I think he's going to be big on the Constance social scene." He fist-bumped Chuck, who was looking smug.

Nate wasn't done. "Besides, I don't think we should be awarding you for destroying my new Italian leather shoes. Your heel punctured it." He held up his foot, and people shot me weirded-out looks. Looks that said, _"She has enough blatant anger to go and ruin someone's shoes with just a foot stamp?"_

Chuck smiled, after the appropriate sympathy had been shown. "Looks like someone's been overruled, 'queen b.' " He made air quotes with his fingers, emphasizing my clear lack of queen-b-ness.

I stood up. People moved their feet away from mine. Kati looked at me with wide eyes. "Please, Blair, spare me! I got a pedicure yesterday! And these are open-toed heels! OPEN-TOED!"

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. What had Chuck done? Now I was the total shoe-stomping psycho. Albeit a popular psycho, but not one that the upperclassmen would think was cool.

I let a breath out. "One time, Chuck. You can sit with us one time. If you behave, maybe more. But if you don't, I'll be forced to use my authority to banish you to the Nerd Table." I pointed to the same table, which was occupied by two people playing chess.

Chuck stood up, laughing. "What 'authority?' The same one you exercised today?"

People at the other tables were watching us now. Someone at a table to our right mockingly sang, _"Power struggle!"_ Giggles ensued. Someone took a photo with their camera phone.

Me and Chuck both narrowed our eyes. Someone loudly said, "Oh, the horrible gripes of the populars. Poor Blair! And new Chuck!" The whole lunchroom was laughing now.

This had to stop, and we both knew it. We were Constance's ruling class (well, I was, but Chuck definitely had the potential.) Someone else tacked a joke onto the previous rant, and we both yelled "SHUT UP!" in unison.

I tacked on "b-listers" at the end, for good measure, and gave everyone my trademark Queen B stare: chin up high, eyes daggers.

Chuck and I exchanged a comradely glace. This was a truce, for now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys, sorry about the short chapter but it was the appropriate place to end it. Hope to get the next chapter up very soon... :)**

**Manhattan Island: Upper East Side**

**Constance Billard K-12 Prep School**

**September 4****th****, 2005 2:15 PM**

As the bell rang to announce the end of school for the day, I jumped out of my seat. Never had a day at school been more exhausting. If I had thought the morning was tough, Chuck seemed to think up more comebacks as the day went on.

As of now, he was kicked back in the chair across from me, his legs splayed out, looking comfortable. "What's the rush, Waldorf?" He was doodling in his spiral notebook below his US history notes.

"Why not leave, Basstard?" That was about the last clever thing I could come up with today. I needed some break from Chuck so I could rethink my catchphrases.

I walked over to his desk to see what he was doodling. He had drawn some random items in the classroom-he was pretty talented, I had to admit. He had labeled them too, in 3-D writing. There was Mrs. Fulmer, which I had to laugh at (her features were as exaggerated as a caricature), the window looking out to the 5th Avenue shops, a pen, and a chair.

He was going over the word _chair_ over and over in blue pen. I stared at it-there was something funny about that word.

Suddenly, it dawned on me. _Chuck and Blair. Chair. _It was a couple name, like Brangelina. Was that what Chuck was thinking when he wrote Chair, or was it just me?

I had to find out more. Screw my tiredness of witty banter.

"Actually, I wanted to leave because school is making me claustrophobic. But I'm not sick of you, _yet_. Care to join me in coffee? There's a really nice café down the street, and we can discuss our partners assignment..." When he looked apprehensive, a tacked on a suggestive, "Or not."

Chuck looked me up and down, like he was trying to decide whether this was all a part of some grand scheme. It kind of was, but it probably wasn't the kind he was thinking of.

It wasn't Scheme: Take Chuck Down. It was more like Scheme: Find Out if Chuck Likes Me.

And if he did? I wasn't exactly sure what to do about that, but we'd cross that bridge when we came to it...

"Sure," Chuck replied, without a hint of uneasiness. We had just taken a baby step to crossing the bridge. _Score. _


	4. Chapter 4

_**Hey guys, sorry this chapter is super short but I felt like it was the appropraite time to end it. Hope to get the next chapter up early tomorrow. Hope you like the cliff-hanger... :)**_

**Manhattan Island: Upper East Side**

**Surrey Café**

**September 4****th****, 2005 2:30 PM**

"So, Chuck, tell me more about yourself," I slid a coffee-black, no sugar-across the table to him.

He took a sip. "What do you want to know? Is this all just so you get more ammunition against me if we have another showdown?"

I smiled. He already knew me too well. "Well, perhaps. But since we're in this group together, and we clearly have some of the same motives, I think we should be friends."

He smirked. "Let's take it a step further."

My breath caught. Was he suggesting that we be more than friends? The bridge was looming, and I think we might have just crossed-

"I'm thinking more like partners in crime," he finished.

I let out my breath. Oh. "Fine," I said coolly, keeping my emotions in check. The bridge faded into the distance again. I wasn't sure if that was relieving or disappointing.

Chuck's eyes met mine in a virtual handshake. "Okay, now that that's settled, I'll tell you my deepest and darkest."

"How amusing. Chuck Bass's inner secrets. Which would be what, exactly?"

His hands stopped me. "Not so fast, Waldorf. We may be partners in crime, but I know that you're not exactly the most faithful."

"What are you talking about?" My voice was shaky.

"Do you vacation in the Hamptons?" He said abruptly, changing the subject.

"Yes, I have a house on the Waverly golf course," I said, taken aback. So were we really not going to talk about what made him question my faithfulness?

"So do I. It's interesting that we've never run into each other. Then again, I haven't been there since the summer before 8th grade. This summer, I was in Europe. But I have to go back. The party scene was _amazing. _I remember this one masquerade ball...let's just say I saw an angel." He caught my eye and winked.

So I _did_ know Chuck...


	5. Chapter 5

**_The Hamptons, New York_**

**_Waverly Ballroom Masquerade Night_**

**_July 8th, 2004 9:45 PM_**

_ "Vodka and Red Bull, please," I told the bartender. Yes, I was thirteen, but nobody was getting carded. When you were getting this well-tipped, nobody cared. _

_ I received my drink and went to stand at the edge of the dancefloor, holding my phone. This night was _so _not going the way I wanted. First, I hadn't seen Serena. She was probably off being admired by a horde of hot guys, not caring that I was going through a mini-crisis._

_ Second, Nate had called to tell me he had to cancel. He was playing doubles tennis with his 'family friend,' Addison, a vomit-inducingly sweet preppy girl. What Nate's parents didn't know about Addison was that she was making eyes for Nate whenever I saw them together. Once the doubles game ended, their families were going out to dinner together, and then after, they were going to have a 'quiet movie night in' that would probably consist of Addison sticking her tongue down Nate's throat._

_ I _so_ needed a distraction._

_ Someone clapped their hands over my shoulders, and I almost spilled my drink. Serena leaned in. "It's me, silly," she giggled. "Why so uptight?"_

_I sighed through my nose. "Nate," I groaned, straightening my askew mask, made of real swan feathers to make me look especially angelic._

_Serena cackled. What had she taken? Probably Georgina had slipped her something, the bitch. "Just forget about him. Look at all these hot guys," she said, gesturing to a few groups of identical polo-playing types who looked like Nate's doppelgangers. _

_And then I saw him. The perfect one to make me forget Nate and Addison doing...each other._

_He was wearing a red devil mask, and had on a sleek black tux. His chocolate brown eyes peeked out, searching the crowd for a worthy girl. I hoped that girl was me, because he looked deliciously bad._

_He saw me, and his face spread into a wide smile (or was it a smirk?). Under his mask, I could make out two dimples. Bam. There went the knees. _

_We both made our way to each other. "Hello, devil," I breathed._

_"I must be in Heaven, I've seen an angel," he replied, his voice deep and sexy._

_However cheesy that pickup line was, I admitted to myself that it fit. I could tell this guy was an expert at all things female._

_"Care to dance?" The devil asked. He was leading me there already, so I obliged. I would have asked if he hadn't._

_We swayed back and forth, locked in each other's arms. I could feel his arm muscles. They were pretty strong. His breath smelled like peppermint, and his warm brown eyes were begging me to kiss him. "Should we-" I started._

_"I think we should-" he stopped. "Ladies first."_

_I smiled. "I think we were thinking the same thing."_

_The devil smirked. "How odd, an angel and a devil about to-well, do whatever we're doing." He led me to a secluded booth, wrapped with gauzy cushions._

_He set me down softly. "Are you sure?" he asked._

_I shrugged. "My boyfriend's out doing the exact same thing to someone else, so let's go."_

_The devil chuckled. "So the angel becomes the devil." He lowered his face to mine, about to go in for the kiss._

_But I was the one to make the first move, meeting his lips. And then he took over. _

_Oh. My. God. The devil was experienced. He knew exactly the right way to kiss me, and his hands, instead of awkwardly feeling me up (like Nate), traced my jawline and cupped my chin. _

_We kissed for a few minutes-I never wanted it to end-but eventually I had to pull away. "That was amazing," I panted, out of breath. He sat up, and I realized that neither of us had taken off our masks. "But I think if we take this any further, I have to see your face."_

_Half of his face pulled up in a grin. "I don't think you should, you said you had a boyfriend. I'm trying to look out for you here...but if you need another trip to the dark side, you know where to find me. Call me C, by the way." He winked._

_I was touched. C was probably right, because I knew I would regret hurting Nate the next day. Even if it was delicious while it lasted..."Call me B. I'll see you around, right?"_

_He smiled. I detected a little bit of sadness. "Perhaps. Goodbye, B." _

_I left the booth, only to run into Serena, who had witnessed the last bit. "Who was that?" she said, peeking through the curtains and looking on appreciatively as C buttoned the top button of his shirt-it must have come askew during our makeout session._

_I grinned. "Oh, nobody."_

_Serena raised her eyebrows. "A_ hot_ nobody. And it's definitely not Nate...you didn't even get his name?"_

_I shrugged. "Nope," I said, not bothering to tell her his first initial. That was something for only me to know. Serena couldn't take every guy away "Strictly a summer fling."_

_What I didn't say was how much I wanted it to be more than a one-time fling..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Manhattan Island: Upper East Side**

**Surrey Café**

**September 4****th****, 2005 2:45 PM**

_Dammit. Shit. Fuck. _My mind went through a cycle of expletives as I tried to comprehend this. The irony that Chuck had caught me at my one moment of weakness was not lost on me.

And it was truly my one and only moment of weakness. Now, whenever Nate or Serena had another one of their "episodes," I drowned my sorrows by eating chocolate and watching _Breakfast at Tiffany's _on a loop. _Not _ordering a way-too-strong drink and throwing myself at a random, herpes-carrying, boy. Even if he was attractive.

_Was Chuck the blackmail type? _I asked myself. The answer was yes. God, but he was a good kisser...

No. _His lips have touched every whore in Manhattan, that's gross, Blair. _

Something had to be done. But how had he figured out who I was? It was a goddamn _masquerade ball, _for Pete's sake. The purpose of the masks were so you could do things and not have to deal with their untimely consequences later. I had made a mistake, and it had to be _buried. _What happens at the Hamptons stays at the Hamptons.

So why was my stomach fluttering at the thought of that night?

I cleared my throat. "Listen, I have no clue how you knew it was me and somehow found me _a whole year later_, but listen, Chuck, this is said to _no one._ I am not a party girl. That was my first and last drunken encounter with a stranger in my life."

He leered at me. "But we're not strangers now, are we?" he smirked, taking my hand.

I slapped his hand away, no matter how comfortable it felt. "I don't what I have to do to get this into your head, but my little tryst with you cannot get out. Not to my minions, not to Serena, and _most definitely_ not to Nate."

He shrugged. "Fine for now, Waldorf. But you just have to remember what I have on you. So just don't try to piss me off."

I rolled my eyes. "I think that part just comes naturally to me without trying, Bass. But I won't do anything outright. At least not for a while."

He glared at me, and I raised my chin and glared back. Brown met brown as his chocolate eyes tried to melt mine. I felt a traitorous blush creep up my cheeks. _Dammit, hormones, keep control of yourselves! _My brain screamed at my body.

Just then, both of our phones beeped, distracting us from our staredown. Chuck raised one eyebrow and asked warily, "How often does that happen?"

For some reason, I had a feeling this wouldn't be good. I opened the new text message. In it was a lone link to a site called .

It seemed like Chuck got the same message. "Who the hell is Gossip Girl?" he scoffed. I really had no idea. I _had _heard a few stories circulating about a blog that somehow found out everyone's secrets, but I had thought it was a myth designed by parents to keep us out of trouble.

"Well, let's find out. I have no idea." I opened the site.

_Hey there, Upper East Siders! _ the post started.

_Gossip Girl here, blogging about a new set of high schoolers. This year, I'll be focusing on the new itty-bitty froshes. Those poor wittle babies have no idea what they're in for. _

_I'll give them an idea: I'm the gossip source of the entire Upper East Side, and Constance is my favorite place to start. And this freshman class has so much promise._

_Blair Waldorf (aka Queen B), Serena van der Woodsen, Nate Archibald, and new meat Chuck Bass. We're in for an interesting year with these four power players. Who will emerge on top? You'll just have to read on and see._

_Spotted: Queen B and 'C' at Starbucks, talking over some coffees-black, just like C's soul. What was their topic of conversation, exactly? Their past years? Forgotten summer flings? Masquerade balls? _

_Maybe all three at once! Never fear, babes, you can trust me to get to the bottom of this ASAP. And as soon as I figure it out, you can bet where you'll here it first..._

_You know you love me,_

_XOXO, Gossip Girl_

Enclosed was a picture in profile of me and Chuck taken from the side. We were leaned close together, and it looked like we were going to do something romantic. The photo didn't catch our steely glares at each other.

I looked around. Who could have taken it? The only people in the coffee shop were a lesbian couple, two old men, and a seventh grader from our school with her mom. Was _she _Gossip Girl? I highly doubted it. She probably didn't even know our names.

Wait a second, we were CB's elite. _Of course she knew our names_. But still, she totally couldn't have that kind of dirt on us. She was like, _eleven_ when that happened.

Chuck, meanwhile, was brooding, obviously plotting my social destruction. "What kind of bitch says that my soul is black? This Gossip Girl has no clue who she's dealing with."

I considered my next move. I still had to take down Chuck so he wouldn't blackmail me, but maybe I could study the enemy by taking down a common one, two-birds-in-one-stone style.

I met his eye. "You're right. Partners in crime, remember?" Little did he know that I had a bigger plan. But might as well let him believe that I was playing fair.

His annoyed face slowly spread into a mischievous smile. Our first assignment as partners-in-crime was about to start: figuring out Gossip Girl's identity and taking her down. Somehow I felt like this wouldn't be as simple as I hoped...


	7. Chapter 7

**Manhattan Island: Upper East Side**

**1136 Park Avenue: Penthouse **

**September 4th, 2005 3:30 PM**

I sighed as I stared blankly at . This _was _harder than we had guessed.

Chuck heard my sigh and tacked on a groan. "Stupid Gossip Girl doesn't reveal any personal information. Now what?"

I clicked back to Gossip Girl's bio on my laptop.

_Gossip girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan's elite. Welcome to New York's Upper East Side, where my friends and I live, go to school, play, and sleep-sometimes with each other. Ever wonder what the lives of the chosen ones are really like? Well, I'm going to tell you, because I'm one of them. Consider this your insider look into the life you wish you had: all of the privilege, none of the price..._

_You know you love me..._

_XOXO, Gossip Girl_

"Well, there's one thing we know. She's one of us." I clicked back to previous posts, all about last year's CB seniors. "And that she's been around a long time." I looked Chuck up and down. "That rules you out."

Chuck rolled his eyes, muttering something like 'how can you know what I'm capable of,' then nodded. "I'm wondering if she's really on the _inside_-you, Serena, Nate, or the others-or if she's someone a little off the radar, who just goes to Constance, more of a witness."

That was good. I bobbed my head up and down. "Tomorrow, we should question all the girls. See if they knew we were at the café."

Chuck pointed a finger to stop me. "It might be a guy. We can't rule out an entire sex just because the site is called Gossip _Girl._"

I tried to stop it, but I blushed at Chuck saying _sex, _even if it was about gender. I liked the way his deep voice caressed the word.

_God, what was wrong with me? _Our relationship was strictly business (plus a little bit of enemies), and besides, I had a boyfriend-a hot one, at that-but Nate's voice wasn't nearly that sexy. _Nate _wasn't nearly that sexy...

I blinked, snapping out of one of my frequent fantasies. "_Smart,_ Chuck," I congratulated him like a toddler learning his alphabet.

His answer was a _well-duh _smirk, and something told me he caught my tiny blush at the mention of the s-word (sex). God, I was way too innocent...

Something came to me. My takedown instincts were telling me to _keep you friends close, but your enemies closer. _I needed to get closer to Chuck, if that was even possible, given that we only officially met today. It certainly wasn't physically possible; as of now we were practically on top of each other because we were both trying to look at the same laptop screen. He smelled good.

_Back to business, Blair, _I scolded myself. "Hey, do you have a phone?" I asked him, even though I already knew the answer.

He looked at me incredulously. "I'm 'Manhattan's elite,' as it says here. Why wouldn't I have a phone? For being the smartest person in the class, Blair, you're incredibly dense sometimes." I liked how he talked to me as if he had known me forever.

And I also liked how easy that was. I smiled. "Well, can I punch my number into it?" I raised my eyebrows sweetly.

He handed his phone over. It was a new Motorola. _New contact, _I selected. I typed in _Queen B Waldorf_, because I liked people to know my status. Then I snapped a photo of myself, a sexy, alluring grin on my face. I even typed in my email, address, and birthday before Chuck held out his hand as if to say, _hand it over_.

He inspected the new contact. "How lovely. November 17th. Got to remember that. Now I need your phone."

He typed in his information, and I looked over his shoulder. _C Bass, 971-431-1102, May 19th, __imchuckbass __, 1812 W 63rd Street (Empire Hotel). _Our birthdays were almost 6 months apart, exactly. He took a picture of himself, too, smirking sexily.

"Why do you live at the Empire?" I asked him.

"My father owns the hotel."

Of course I knew his father was Bart Bass, one of the richest men in the US, but I could play dumb for a little bit to get more out of him. I raised my eyebrows, putting on a little bit of a show. "Really? How many does he own?"

"He owns lots. Ever heard of Bart Bass?" He asked, a smile toying at his lips. He had called my bluff. Dammit, he might even be better at this game than me.

"Tell me. Do you own this building? I mean, does _Bass Industries_ own it?"

Chuck laughed throatily. "I thought well-bred girls like you didn't talk about wealth to anyone."

I raised my eyebrows. "Maybe I'm not as well-bred as you think I am. Watch this." I removed my headband like I was at a strip club. It _was_ a pretty big deal. I only removed my headband right before I was about to go to bed. This had to work. I knew how attracted he was to me.

He held out his hands. "How attractive. Waldorf without her trademark hair accessory. Any more of this raciness from you, and you're going to cheat on poor-"

His phone rang. What a shame, I really wanted to hear the end of that sentence. My head was singing, _blackmail material! _This little juicy piece of gossip could ruin his friendship with Nate. I finally had the Basstard-hook, line, and sinker...

But my heart was also racing, and the butterflies had turned into pterodactyls. Did that mean he wanted me to cheat on-?

"Nathaniel," Chuck answered in his velvet voice, finishing my mental sentence.

I heard Nate's reply softly through the phone. "Chuck, what are you doing right now?"

He looked at me. I shook my head, as if to say, _don't tell him I'm with you!_ Nate could not find that out. To make this work, I would have to make it seem like Chuck had come on to me and told me he wanted me to cheat on Nate. Chuck could _not _expose us, because that would ruin my expert plan.

This excuse was probably going to be lame, because he had just realized he had slipped up. He knew I had counter-blackmail, so he would expose us now to destroy me...

How surprised was I when he crafted up a totally believable lie. As he spouted it to Nate, he winked at me, as if to say, _I'm onto you. But I need this game to be more interesting before I win._

He spoke into the receiver calmly and with a cool smirk on his face, his dark eyes still watching me. "Mr. Dalton, my 3rd-period art teacher, gave us this stupid assignment to go and take photos in my neighborhood. I wanted one of the maids to do it, but Bart overheard and told me to do it myself, because '_that's the only way you can make a name for yourself,' _" he said, imitating the deep voice and all-important attitude of Bart.

"Then I said, I already made a name for myself, it's _Chuck Bass_, remember? And then he still told me to go do my homework. So right now, to answer your question, I'm in Central Park, photographing some baby ducks."

He spat out the word _duck_, making it sound like _fuck. _I smirked. That was a pretty good excuse. Nate certainly bought it, but then again, he bought nearly anything. I heard his voice say: "No way, I'm running in the park right now. We should meet up, maybe shoot a few hoops."

Chuck's eyes rolled at me, as if to say, _how gullible is Nate?_ "No problem, except for I'm still in my school uniform. I'm going to run to my place and change into something better. See you in twenty."

I opened my mouth and closed it. "You're just going to ditch me?" I asked incredulously. Things were just getting good.

Chuck shrugged. "What can I say, it's bros before hos. See you later, Waldorf, then we'll talk business." And with that he left down the elevator, before I could even hint at how I could destroy him.

I stood by the closed door, willing him to come back. _Once he gets down, he's going to realize that he needs to hear me out before I do something to him in school tomorrow. _And I had the perfect comeback for when he did.

Sure enough, the elevator dinged 2 minutes later. Chuck was _so _gonna pay, today and tomorrow. Not unless he could talk me down. I was open to a little bribing.

"You think I'm a whore, Chuck? Well, you're a man-slu-" I cut myself off as I saw that it was only Dorota, holding supplies for dinner.

"Miss Blair?" she asked, confused and probably weirded out. "I am man-slut?"

I started laughing, a little hysterically. "No, Dorota. I thought you were-"

"Mr. Chuck Bass? I ran into him leaving."

I sighed. "Yes, Chuck." I wrinkled my nose a little at the sound of my adversary's name, but my heart reacted differently, doing a little flip-flop.

Dorota looked at me suspiciously. "You _like _this Mr. Chuck?"

I huffed. "_I do not, Dorota_. Well, just as a friend. I already have Nate, remember?" I said, trying to convince Dorota.

But what I was really trying to do was convince myself that I didn't like Chuck.


	8. Chapter 8

**Manhattan Island: Upper East Side**

**Constance Billard K-12 Prep School**

**September 5th, 2005 7:45 AM**

As I was putting my books into my huge wood-paneled locker (my own, what loser this side of 5th Avenue shares a locker?), I saw Chuck out of the corner of my eye. Of course, our lockers were next to each other.

He was texting someone. I hoped it was a guy, not a girl that I would have to compete with-wait. What was I saying? He was my next takedown target.

_Play it cool, Blair. _I slammed my locker shut. "Oh, look, if it isn't C?" I asked condescendingly. "How was your playdate at the park?"

Chuck shrugged. "Fine. We just shot some hoops, then I ate dinner at his place. Actually, he just texted me. He wants me to try out for lacrosse with him. Think I should?"

A weight had just been lifted from my shoulders. He wanted my advice. _Of course. _"I mean, if you can stand a sport where you'll have to remove your scarf..."

He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "I'm not a big sports team fan, but there was this one time when I was doing some-_physical activity_-so to speak, and I took it off...Man, it was cold."

I rolled my eyes. Nothing like a lewd conversation with the Upper East Side's newest playboy to wake you up.

"But I think I'll try out, just for fun. I'm always good at anything I try." He left, with a wink, leisurely walking over to Nate's locker like Nate should be the one coming to him.

I hated to say it, but I kind of wanted some more of Chuck Bass. Lucky me, that was what the entire rest of the day was for. I had to find the right time to tell him that our blackmail game was over because I knew something that could destroy his friendship with Nate. But oh, the games were only just beginning...

Someone came up behind me and clapped their hands over my eyes, scaring the shit out of me. I yelped, then grew a little annoyed.

Was this Chuck? Or Nate? Whoever it was, they were in big trouble. Nobody was supposed to see the Queen be scared. "Who is it?" I asked testily.

Serena giggled. "Me, silly. You need to lighten up." She tapped my button nose with a polished fingernail.

I rolled my eyes at her. "You know I have to be composed for all of Constance to see."

She rolled her eyes back. "We all know that's a load of BS. And besides, I'm your best friend! We've barely seen each other since school started!"

_Well, that isn't entirely my fault, _I thought. Chuck had taken up all my time. "I had some stuff to deal with," I snapped. "But I'm here now," I said in a softer tone when I saw her perpetually sunny face slide a little.

She grinned again. "Is that _stuff _something to do with our newest edition?"

I shook my head violently. "Absolutely not. He is the perfect example of how money can't buy class." I felt the heat creep to my cheeks and I knew they were betraying me by blushing.

Serena looked dubious, and then her eyes caught something behind my shoulder. "Oh look, there's Chuck!" she called, pointing.

I whipped my head around, to find no one. Serena started to laugh. "I believe you, B. You want _nothing to do _with Mr. Bass," she said sarcastically.

I was blushing again. _Dammit! _

She noticed. For being in her little own world most of the time, she had somehow gotten so observant all of a sudden. "Do you _like _Chuck?" she asked, half-teasing and half serious.

"No," I said, too loudly. "His fashion sense is tacky, his banter isn't clever, his lips have touched every whore on the island, and he's carrying all the STDs we talk about in Health class!" My voice rose so people at the neighboring lockers could hear me.

Serena raised her eyebrows at my defensive rant. "Well, Gossip Girl doesn't seem to think so." She held out her phone, and on it was a new poll: _Are Chuck and Blair a secret couple?_

I wanted to slam the phone shut, that's how mad I was. This would ruin my reputation as the Virgin Ice Queen, because everyone knew Chuck Bass didn't _do _celibacy.

But still, my eyes scanned down the results. The trend was a resounding _yes, they are a couple_ at 77%. Shit, almost one thousand people had voted on it! And the post had been up an hour...

Already I felt the hot stares of people and the whispers of _she's Chuck Bass's new slut._ I wasn't anyone's slut. I wasn't a slut. I was a Queen.

Ick. Ick. Ick. This needed to be stopped.


	9. Chapter 9

_**So this chapter is pretty much just fluff. Don't worry, the 7 deadly sins thing will come into play later...I'm not just giving you a religion lesson ;) I wanted to show you a scene of Chuck and Blair's camaraderie in school...enjoy!**_

* * *

**Manhattan Island: Upper East Side**

**Constance Billard K-12 Prep School**

**September 5****th****, 2005 9:45 AM**

"Students, before we begin our religion curriculum, we have to get one thing out of the way first."

Everyone groaned, knowing what was coming.

"Today, we will be talking about the role of sex in Christ's plan for us." More groans.

Chuck looked amused. "Never gotten the Catholic-school version of the sex talk," he whispered to me.

I rolled my eyes, at him and at the class in general. "If you thought the public-school version was bad, this is a lot worse. All about what 'Jesus wants us to do.' Jesus sounds like a total perve to me if he's interested in my celibacy."

Chuck snorted. "You certainly don't get enough credit for your wit."

Mr. Lachey raised his eyebrows. "Charles and Blair...since you seem to have so much to say, why don't you be our first volunteers?"

"It's Chuck!" we both moaned as the class giggled in anticipation of our embarrassment. If Gossip Girl was in this class now, she would be blogging this.

Lachey handed us both a script. "You are going to role-play."

Chuck snorted, his eyes blazing. "I thought this was about no sex until marriage!" he remarked sarcastically.

The class laughed as Mr. Lachey tried to explain. "No, this is about refusing sex. Chuck is playing the part of a boy who wants to have sex with Blair, but Blair is trying to explain how she wants to stay pure until marriage."

We exchanged a glance. That may be half true, I thought. The untrue half was the last part. _Get it together, Blair! _I scolded myself for about the millionth time over the past two days.

Chuck cleared his throat. "We need to get into a more realistic position for this role." He raised his eyebrows at me, as if to say, _just because this is religious ed doesn't mean this can't be fun. _

I shrugged. What was the worst thing he could do? It wasn't like I had to refuse all physical contact with Chuck now that he was my sorta-enemy. He was hot.

He picked me up, wrapping my legs around his torso, and set me down on a desk. "Now, where were we?" he winked. I grimaced on the inside but on the inside my mind was chanting, _enemies with benefits! Enemies with benefits!_

I looked at my script. "I can't," I read, trying to sound realistic. After all, maybe the drama director would walk in any second and decide to automatically cast me for the lead role in Hamlet based on this touching performance.

Chuck made his voice sound deep and seductive-not that he had to try very hard. "But why? I know you want to. _I _want to."

"Because, I made a promise to myself. I don't want to regret anything." Bring on the fake tears.

Chuck wiped a tear away from my cheek, and I heard some _awws. _It looked like the class was enjoying this.

I could read Chuck's face, it was saying _time to make this even more interesting. _"But you won't regret it. I'm very good, you'll only feel pleasure." I knew he wasn't reading the script.

I blushed, and Mr. Lachey jumped up. "Okay, _Chuck _and Blair, sit down! Before Chuck deviated from the script, we were having a promising scene."

I looked at Chuck. He smirked, as if to say, "Wasn't that a good improv scene?"

I rolled my eyes, because his line was so very _Chuck_. I wasn't sure if he was joking or if he was serious, and I wasn't sure which one I wanted.

The teacher sighed audibly. "You know what, guys, I feel like this silliness is going to happen no matter what, so we'll turn this talk over to the headmistress at a later date." The class whooped, and Chuck nudged me. I knew he was thinking, _we just saved the class. _

"But, that doesn't mean we are going to scrap our religion lesson," Lachey continued, passing out little leather-bound journals. "These are your journals, and you'll be writing in them every class from now on." The class groaned.

"Today, you will start with writing something that a lot of people might not know. It can be good or bad."

People set to work. _I may look like an angel, but I'm really the devil,_ I wrote. _You don't want to cross me. _

"Now you're going to write either a Gift of the Spirit, for a good quality, or a 7 deadly sin, for a bad quality, next to it. Shall we review?" He pulled up a chart of the Gifts of the Spirit and another for the 7 Deadly Sins on the interactive whiteboard.

_**Lust:**__ excessive sexual desire, __**gluttony**__: over-indulgence of food, __**greed:**__ desire to possess more than needed, __**envy**__: jealousy and pleasure at another's misfortune, __**sloth**__: laziness, __**wrath**__: anger, __**pride**__: a desire to be more important than others and love of oneself and hatred of one's neighbor._

Hm. I was a lot of these things. But I definitely wasn't lazy. And is there such a thing as being the _opposite_ of gluttonous? I tried to avoid excess food as much as possible. I wrote _down Pride, Greed, Envy, and Wrath._

"Now, trade papers with your partner." Of course, my partner was Chuck.

I was almost curious to see what Chuck had said about himself. He had simply scrawled _I'm Chuck Bass_, and then a list of what that meant in terms of the 7 Deadly Sins.

**_Lust:_**_ Way too much, it's my 1__st__ day of school and already I would like to do every single girl in the room__**, Gluttony**__: maybe with drinking? __**Greed:**__ Well, I already have everything, __**Envy:**__ Like I said previously, but I do like to destroy people, __**Sloth**__: never (well, unless I'm tired from excessive lust), __**Wrath**__: If someone double-crosses me, __**Pride:**__ Definitely. I'm Chuck Bass._

I laughed out loud. "This describes you perfectly," I said, my voice sounding way too light and carefree. "What I mean is, it makes you seem like a self-absorbed ass, which you are," I added in a clipped tone.

Chuck rolled his eyes. "You know you love me, Waldorf."

I sighed. I couldn't resign myself to hating Chuck yet. Especially if I actually _really _liked him. "Fine," I resigned. "Maybe a little."

We exchanged one of our partners-in-crime looks, a look that was becoming more and more frequent.

his was going to be the start of a beautiful friendship. Or more-than-friendship, if the fluttering in my stomach were any kind of indicator.


	10. Chapter 10

**Manhattan Island: Upper East Side**

**1812 Palace Hotel: Penthouse**

**September 5****th****, 2005 3:05 PM**

I liked our new after-school routine. If you could call something that had happened 2 days in a row a routine.

Before school ended (a very productive day, I had hinted what I would do to Chuck if the secret got out at lunch, and he had no clever comeback), Chuck had invited me over to his apartment for more Gossip Girl takedown. She had posted something new about how me and Chuck were spending more time together, as were Nate and Serena. _Got anything to hide, B? _She had said. I could almost hear a condescending prissy girl's voice saying the words. Someone a lot like-well, me. Someone like G-but she was at boarding school.

"So this is yours?" I asked Chuck, awe in my voice. His penthouse was _huge, _complete with a Jacuzzi. _Party central, _I thought.

"Yeah," he said, with a proud voice, but I detected a hint of sadness. "All mine. My father lives at the other end of the building. In his own words, 'better for me to concentrate on my work and you to concentrate on your...conquests,'" he said, imitating Bart. He laughed shakily. "Better that way, I guess. He's a major asshole."

"Tell me about it. I'm almost positive my father is having an affair with another woman. I hear him talking on the phone in his closet late at night, and he denies everything."

Chuck poured us both a drink. "To daddy issues," he said. I clinked his glasses, then took a drink. It burned, but it tasted like release. Chuck was the perfect guy for release. And condemnation.

I cleared my throat. "So, Gossip Girl?" I asked.

He nodded, his face souring. "I know someone who would totally be her type. I haven't seen her in forever, but I went on a few dates with her in the Hamptons, and she was a...total psycho bitch. Lived for manipulation. Even said she lived in New York. She was our year."

"Who?" I asked breathlessly, knowing that his answer would not be the name I was thinking.

Just then his phone chimed.

I read the text over his shoulder.

_Hey, C...I'm back in New York! I heard you're going to Constance...whoop-di-do! Have you become acquainted with my very best friends Blair and Serena? If not, I've got lots to show you...I still can't forget those amazing nights in the Hamptons. Hoping for an encore, 3 years later ;) Love, Georgina_

* * *

"What...the...fuck?" we both asked in union. Then we looked at each other. "How do you know her?" I asked him.

"I lost my virginity to her...in 6th grade. We went on like, 3 dates, and had sex maybe 2 times."

I felt my face go red. "In 6th grade, I didn't even know what virginity _was_. Leave it to Georgina to deflower the Upper East Side's newest playboy."

He made a indignant noise at the word _deflower, _although I was quite certain he used it when he was describing taking a girl's virginity.

I explained my relationship with her. "She used to go to Constance. She left last year because I might have accidentally busted her for cheating on a final." I shrugged and gave him a _what else could I do _look. "She was a complete crazy bitch, trying to fuck with me and Serena's relationships and even throwing herself at Nate."

I said Nate's name with complete ownership, like I had something to prove to Chuck. We weren't on the stablest of footing recently, but he was still my boyfriend. Chuck shouldn't set back our perfect relationship.

I looked over to Chuck to see his reaction, and saw him wiping an uncharistically jealous look off his face. At the mention of Nate? No way.

"I thought she might be Gossip Girl," I said, referring to Georgina, obviously. "She's the only person so manipulative-besides me and you, obviously-that could be able to do this kind of thing. And she knew all the upperclassmen."

Chuck stared at me, eyes widening. "She was the person who I was saying was the only person I knew who was that psycho. And now that she's back-well, it might be possible that she never left."

We knew what we had to do. Take down Georgina and Gossip Girl in one blow? Of course.

Chuck texted back. _Hey G, I can't wait to see you. I know all about Serena and Blair, but of course I can't stop thinking about you. Dinner soon? You can bet there'll be an encore. XO, C_

If I didn't know better, me and Chuck totally could have been Gossip Girl. At least then there wouldn't be embarrassing entries about our couple-dom floating around. Even if they were partially true.

The smoldering look that Chuck gave me after he fired off his text suggested that they were a lot more than just partially true.


End file.
